


There's Our Girl

by bistourylove



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Devil's Threesome, Eating out, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Maybe Some Plot, PWP without Porn, Sex, eiffel towering, kinda dub-con, sharing is caring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 21:30:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bistourylove/pseuds/bistourylove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sherlock is actually a sociopath, Moriarty is still a psycho but plays the game well and Molly becomes the attention of their affections. Established Sheriarty, they set their sites on Molly and after all, sharing is caring. <br/>Still new to this, no beta, apologies ahead of time for mistakes. <br/>Thank you for reading!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Game is On

It seems an unlikely place to find romance. A morgue doesn’t exactly implant images of passion and love in the minds of most. And so she didn’t expect to find it. But wouldn’t it be lovely if someone still found her attractive, even if she smelled of phenol and more often than not was speckled with someone else’s blood by the end of the day. So she didn’t look for it, tried not to think about it when she stepped into her flat and was met only by her cat every evening.   
The morning air was brisk; spring had finally arrived in London and with it came light showers and sun in the early day. She walked into St.Bart’s and headed down the familiar path of corridors and stairways to her locker. She dawned her lab coat, newly washed and smelling of bleach. She looked in the mirror on her locker door, and silently reassured herself she was happy, whether or not she was. She grabbed the clip board of case analysis forms, she had four today – not too shabby, she’d be able to get in a lunch and finish some paperwork.  
Already in her PPE and removing the skin from the xiphoid process of her first postmortem of the day she hears the morgue phone ring through the silence of the room. Her heart jumped at the sound in a silly way that made her feel childish. She pressed the intercom with the back of her hand.  
“Molly, who is it?”  
“Ah, Molly, hoped it would be you. Any fresh ones?”  
It was him, who else would ask a question about the dead so rudely and eagerly? Who else had a voice that resonated in her chest?  
“Um, yes, yes actually. Do you need male or female?”  
“Either will do, buzz me in.”  
Of course he was already there. He never bothered to call ahead. She heard him click off and she set her cauterizing scalpel into its rest as she removed her gloves with practiced ease, taking off the left and then the right in a way that they managed to end up inside out within one another. She also binned her face mask and tried hastily to brush the hair from her face. She depressed the entrance button.  
He entered the room in a flurry as usual, cloaked in Belstaff and a halo of unruly curls.   
“Morning, Sherlock.” Her voice was meeker than she would have liked  
“Molly,” he said curtly “I need a subject without atherosclerotic femoral arteries.”  
She leads him to the cooler and pulls the door and tray. Female, 24, likely overdose. He fumbles with the body to place it on the table with Molly’s assistance. He may be a genius but he doesn’t do postmortems, not like Molly does postmortems.  
“Could you raise and blunt dissect the artery for me? You’re so quick about it.” His eyes lit up a bit as he spoke.   
She crosses his body, he doesn’t move, stand crowding behind her, his torso almost in contact with her back. She feels flush from his proximity, but does her best to ignore it thinking that he can be so ignorant sometimes. Her hand deftly locates Hunters Canal and presses the scalpel along the linear guide of the femoral. Her aneurysm hook captures the artery and accompanying vein in on fell swoop. She undercuts the incision, removes the arterial sheathing and lays the rubbery tubes over the wide handle of her aneurysm hook. All in all it takes about a minute, maybe less. Her head raises back to normal height now and she is startled to find Sherlock’s breathing is heavy and quickened. She turns to face him and he doesn’t move, their face just centimeters apart. His mouth, partially open, is right at her eye level.  
“Such precision is a rare gift Molly.” His voice is breathy and her name falls from his lips like molasses.  
“Thank you.” She blushes and looks away  
“Beautiful. Look at you in your kit. I almost always forget you’re a doctor. But your craft is so well honed.” His hands are trailing down her waist, no minding the stiff material but instead pressing into her curves. She is stunned, frozen in place. Must be hallucinating. He leans down to close the small distance between their lips. His mouth is hot and so much softer than his razor sharp witticisms would lead one to believe. She sighs into the kiss, almost a whimper of surprise and satisfaction all at once. He deepens the kiss, practically swallowing her mouth with his own. She finally takes the courage to run her fingers through his hair. She never wants this to end. But it does. She is left dazed and wanting after the encounter ceases.   
“Right. Experiment time.” Just like that he changes disposition. She is almost uncertain the kiss even occurred as he begins to set up whatever illegal science he has planned for the day. She takes not and leaves him to his work as she attends to hers. The rest of the day feels like a fog. She is disheartened to find he has left without saying goodbye at the end of the day. Mysterious – that was him on all accounts. 

No struggle. Your turn-SH  
Oh, but I like a struggle. Showtime-JM  
Be nice. You’ve got to do this right for it to work-SH  
Always-JM

Sherlock scoffs at the last message. Jim put on a good show but Sherlock knew like no one else possibly could. Knew why he marked Molly as their target. Knew it was because she was sweet and unassuming but surrounded by death every day. That dichotomy got both their blood running a little hotter than usual. Jim was a changeable lover, it was his weakness, although perhaps his only one. He could go from love making to the most depraved sexual theatre in a breath.


	2. Luring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Sherlock lays the groundwork it is now Jim's turn to advance the game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thanks for reading my stuff, much appreciated!! Next and last bit should be up within the day, that's when it get really good, promise.

Just like clockwork, like everything he ever set in motion, Molly’s computer would succumb to a nasty virus within the week. And Jim would be there to save her and all her precious reports, he liked this role – he never got to be the good guy, what a change.   
“I’m sorry to be a bother. I just don’t even know where to start to fix this.” Molly said staring at her bluescreen  
“No worries. I’m a specialist.” Jim grinned. He looked nothing like himself today, so casual, tight clingy white t-shirt and hip hugging jeans outlined his slight and slender figure. He went about uninstalling his cleverly planted code with ease, it would only take a few moments, but he would carry on the conversation for much longer. As he is getting ready to leave the lab he puts on his best coy face, looking downward and asking sweetly-  
“If I gave you my number, would you let me know if you were free for dinner?”  
“I’m free tonight.” She blurted out before she could think about it and catch herself  
“Oh, uh, I’m off at Six. Should I come round then?”  
“Yeah, uh, sure.” She said consciously calculating what she was wearing, totally aware that none of it could be construed as anything anyone would wear on a first date. Jim notices her self-conscious measurements and counters it quickly.  
“Great.” He says, “love you’re jumper. See you in a bit.” With that he walks out the door, leaving her smiling and anticipating the evening.   
Date tonight. You were right, so easy.-JM  
Break her in gently.-SH  
True to his word, Jim returns a few minutes past six to make it seem like he wasn’t rushing. He had added a jacket with cargo pockets and a messenger bag to his ensemble, it was always so much fun to play dress-up; to play normal, blend in. He made just the right amount of impression, which was none.   
“Shall we, Molly?” he offers the crook of his arm in a gentlemanly manner and she takes it.  
The dinner is really the hardest part, he has to keep the act up for so long, but he finds himself slipping into it easily, if anything its relaxing to be on this level for a bit. And while Molly’s topics of conversation are far from enthralling – her cat, her last holiday – Jim finds that is really isn’t so hard to engage her. It is when she stumbles awkwardly onto the subject of her work that his interest is piqued.   
“Do go on, I want all the details. So interesting, that.” He tries not to sound over eager but is honestly excited to hear about it.  
“Yeah?” she pokes at her near empty plate with her fork “No one ever does ya know, puts of most men especially. Not the type of thing most guys find attractive right?”  
“Nothing could put me off you.” He takes her right hand gently into his left and then cups it with the other.   
It’s just that easy, she opens up and tells him about some of the more gruesome cases she has worked on over the years, minding to keep her voice from carrying through the dining room. He is enthralled to hear her speak in hushed tones about the troubles with lividity, how saponification really works and that no one in the industry calls it’s product adipocere instead they all just called it grave wax; what it takes to deal with three weeks of wet decomposition and how obnoxious mold and fungus is on human skin. Now, this, this is why he wants to bend her over any piece of furniture in sight and just have his way with her. This, her adorable, sweet face letting all those scientific and disgusting details out in such confident enthusiasm.  
He picks up the tab, insisting that a beautiful lady does no such thing. They walk out of the middle class café and he takes the moment to catch her off guard. He swings her around, almost comically, and takes her into his arms, folding her into himself. His lips meet hers quickly and almost as quickly his tongue nudges into her mouth and he can taste dessert on her. She gives over to the attention easily, in the back of her mind the kiss she shared with Sherlock a week ago, she supposed that when it rained it poured and was satisfied. She let her hands slip to his hips, looping her fingers into his belt loops.  
“Mmm, Molly” she says against her lips “My place?”  
She pulls away slightly. This was moving awfully fast. Too fast? His lips capture hers again. Not fast enough. She relishes the way his tongue laps her mouth.  
“Too soon?” he asks, knowing full well the question is rhetorical.  
“Yes, I mean no, I mean yes lets go to your flat.”  
His hands snakes down to the small of her back and he guides her towards a cab. How pedestrian, public transportation, but it really wouldn’t do to have one of his sleek black Jags to pick them up. They wouldn’t actually be going to his place, well not his actual home, much to conspicuous – fat cat bankers couldn’t afford his lodgings. No. A bolt hole would do nicely for this little affair, he had made sure it would be unoccupied tonight. They run their hands over each other’s thighs in the backseat of the taxi, not rushing, just playing lightly. She sat playing scenarios out in her mind, worried that he wouldn’t like her body once he actually saw it, wondering why she was doing this, did she want this, of course she did it had been so long, would she be out of practice, it all just ran through her head at once. Jim on the other hand was thinking about what was about to come, his conquest, their conquest, oh that was a lovely thought, their conquest. It would be decadent, later he could recount how she gave in at first and it sent a chill through his hollow bones.   
Once in his flat he had her against a wall instantly, his hand under her blouse and jumper. He isn’t surprised to find that her bra is slightly padded, she didn’t seem like the confident type. She was too mousy for that. His lips map her jawline, rushing down her neck beginning their southward journey to her clavicle and beyond. She sighed, anxious but wanting, and just gave into him. His body was now flush against hers and rutting in controlled hunger, surprisingly self-control was a concept Moriarty had. He broke from her to stare into her half-lidded eyes with his lust drunk gaze.  
“Bedroom is at the end of the hall. Gimme a minute yeah? I’ll meet you there lovely.” He swatted her bottom lightly in the direction instructed. With her back turned he pulled his mobile from his pocket as she clumsily walked toward the boudoir.   
“Undress for me would you doll?” His voice is sacrine sweet and it’s an order more than a request. She blushes darkly, but her apprehension is stymied by the realised advantage of being able to hide under his comforter. She slipped her clothing, trying not to get hung up on the fact that she was perfumed by aldehydes from work still, that the scent of it clung to her skin even without her clothing and then she crawled under the bedding to wait meekly.

Come join the fun. You’ve 15mins to get here. The door is unlocked.-JM  
Don’t be late. -JM  
Impatient. -SH


	3. Final Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The culmination of a plan set into motion by devious lover, Sherlock and Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, it's done. I'm finished. I'm new to this whole bit so if you've got comments I would greatly appreciate them.  
> Again no beta so I hope it's acceptable.   
> Thanks for reading.

Jim licked his lips lasciviously and headed toward the bedroom with offensive intent. He entered the room pulling his shirt from himself in a jerky motion and began crawling up the bed to a timid looking Molly. His timid little girl. Without a word, he pushed her down in order to get her onto her back before pressing himself to her through the duvet. He took purchase of her lips, holding her face in his hands allowing his full body weight to relax and sink into her.   
“Tell me you want me.” He muttered between kisses. This was his favourite part.   
She hummed into his mouth as his kisses continued, but did not verbally reply. He snaked his hand under the cotton separating them and ran it hotly down her nude, soft, unseen body. And his fingers began slowly tracing her labia, she twitched under him. When he barely parts he flesh he is met by wet heat.   
“Say it,” he rubbed a fingertip across her clit  
“Oh, Jim, oh I want it…” she manages to shakily state “want you.”  
“There’s a good girl.” He continues his ministrations, rocking his hips in sync with his motion, pressing into her as she beings to moan and push down the covers separating them. Her breasts are pert and topped with small ducky pink nipples. Jim has to stop himself from taking one into his mouth and just biting down until he tastes blood. The heat of their chests together is almost suffocating for both parties. Jim smirks his lips on her neck, thinking about the open possibilities of the future. Quickly he shimmies himself down the bed, taking all the covers with him.  
Molly’s legs are tightly closed, he runs his hands down the tops of her thighs before pulling her apart by her ankles, he licks at her calves, kissing up her legs, alternating from left to right equally distributing affection. She is squirming at his touch; her entire body has taken on the flush of arousal.  
Jim places one sloppy open mouthed kiss upon her vulva before slowly dipping his tongue down to brush down across her sex. Her instant moaning at his small action please him to no end.   
“Delicious” his voice is his own now, and darker than before, that unmistakable Dubliner coming out now. He begins to ravish her, his tongue lapping and circling with such fervor that Molly’s breathing is erratic and hitching. He inhibitions left the room the moment Jim’s head ducked between her thighs. She tangles her fingers into his soft dark hair, not pressing him or forcing him but encouraging him to continue. She bends her knees, placing her feet on the mattress, opening up, giving him the angle she desires so hotly. He digs his fingers into her hips burningly while burying his face between her legs so that there is not space between his cheeks and her sopping wet pussy. He can feel her body tensing and it only spurs on him work.   
“Ah ha…oh…yes…oh Jim yes, right there right…Ah”  
She arches off the bed, bucking away from him as she rode through the sweetness of her orgasm. Despite her wild movements Jim’s mouth never leaves the soft pulsing flesh beneath his tongue, even when she froze and just started to shiver he lick slow stripes along her quavering flesh. She mutters unintelligibly, releasing the bedclothes she had fisted at the height of her pleasure.   
Jim sits back, smiling. His face is sloppy with Molly’s arousal and his own saliva, he makes no attempt to tidy himself. His smile is vicious and all she can do is stare at him hazily. He steps off the bed to unbuckle his belt and undo his flies, exposing, more so, the aching and unattended erection his denim had concealed. Molly closes her eyes, throwing an arm over her face and tries impossibly to slow her breathing. Jim hears the door open and close in a hushed, calculated way. He knows Molly is oblivious to the din, blissfully unaware. Jim turns, trousers still half on, pants exposed, to greet his lover.   
“Oh, Sherly, innit she a sight?” his singsong in full effect “There’s our girl.”  
Her eyes fly open in panic, scrambling to reclaim the sheets and hide herself, embarrassed by the sudden presence of her sometimes morgue colleague.  
“Molly, I knew your tragic sense of fashion worked against your form. It’s quiet alright you know, we’ve had our eye on you for months now.” Sherlock continued to talk even as Jim wrapped around his waist and planted kisses on his elegantly long neck.  
“What? I don’t understand.” She said, trying to muster anger “Why are you here?” Molly’s words were strong, but despite herself her voice was not.   
“Well, we, my pet here and I,” Sherlock ran his hand through Jim’s hair “We like to share, we like to open our bed to other interested parties.” Molly stared at him still, just as confused as previously. “And darling, with skills like yours and all that shy demeanour we simply found you infatuating. How could we pass up the opportunity to see what you’re really like, how you come undone.”  
“I don’t want both of you. No one asked me.” She snapped  
“We all know that’s not quite true.” Jim said before closing his lips on Sherlock’s. Their kiss was brief but fiery. When they broke apart Sherlock licked his lips, sucked them in a bit and smiled.  
“Oh you’re delectable Molly.” He licked a stripe along the edge of Jim’s mouth  
Thinking the men were distracted by each other, Molly made to redress herself and leave as quickly as possible.  
“No.” Sherlock’s voice was commanding. Molly froze momentarily before darting towards the pile of clothes that belong to her.   
“I said no.” Sherlock’s oversized hand gripped her arm, stopping her effectively in her tracks. His attention left Jim entirely and he faced Molly head on. He kissed her gently, much more tenderly than Jim had, more than he had the day in the morgue. He was working to break down her defenses, she was aware of that, but it was still working. He shrugged off his blazer and made quick work of his overly tailored dress shirt.   
“Stay. We promise to make it worth your while.” Sherlock’s hands traced down her shoulder blades.  
“Stay.” Jim repeated, suddenly behind her, kissing the nape of her neck.   
This was crazy. People didn’t do this. Didn’t just have threesomes with people they barely knew, or had to work with. Sherlock said ‘we’, were they a couple? What if people found out? What if they didn’t? The though crept into her mind, she wouldn’t tell, doubted either of them would. No one would ever know outside of this room, right?  
“Quit thinking Molly.” Sherlock whispered in her ear. And as crazy as it was, she went pliant to their touches.   
“There’s a good girl.” Jim said, slowly removing the sheet Molly had been using to cover herself. She shivered as it slid away, but Sherlock’s hands replaced the cotton with the delicacy he normally reserved for his beloved violin or evidence at a crime scene. He kissed her that way a lover of years would, sending warm comfort through her body. She took initiative and broke her lips from his and down to the curve of his neck where it met his shoulder. His scent was heady, musky and blatantly masculine. Jim gently guided her head down Sherlock’s chest, she kissed and licked the pale expanse of skin, running her tongue down his Linea Alba, she couldn’t help herself but to map his anatomy as she went. Sherlock dipped down slightly to take Jim’s lips to his own.   
Molly found herself on her knees, taking apart Sherlock’s trousers, looking up at the men kissing above her. What a scandalous sight. She paused, her fingers under the elastic of his pants, caught up by the view of the uranists.  
“Don’t stop now.” Sherlock said breathily  
“Rude.” Jim snarked  
She pulled down the trousers and pants together and took a moment to admire the near perfect cock in front of her. Precome already welling in a bead at the tip, foreskin tautly drawn back by the strain of the erection. Jim’s hand on the back of her head nudged her forward and she wrapped her lips around the head before taking him as far as she could without gagging, her right hand gripping around the length she could not handle.   
“Oh, that is lovely. Mmm. What a sight.”  
Sherlock gazed down at Molly’s bobbing head with Jim’s fingers still grasping her brunette strands. Her lips came off him with a wet pop. Sherlock took the opportunity to completely divest himself of clothing. Jim followed suit.   
“Heads or tails pet?” Sherlock asked Jim  
“What do you think Molls?” Jim’s tone was almost mawkish  
“I…I want…” she trailed off shyly, couldn’t bring herself to voice something so openly wrong, so raw.   
“Who do you want inside you?” Jim further implored while lifting her from the floor and tossing her up onto the mattress. Her gaze bore into Sherlock, full of needy want.   
“Oh I think we know.” Sherlock said climbing up her body. His fingers sank into her up to his palm, just two, but the sensation was electric. Molly felt liquid under his touch.   
“Yes” Molly could not stifle her joy at his affections  
“Hands and knees” Sherlock said “now” he ordered. She complied while watching Jim come onto the bed, kneeling and leaning on the headboard. Sherlock pressed his knees between hers widening her posture.   
“Condom?” Molly half asked  
“Unnecessary. I know you’re on birth control. We’re clean. Honestly.” He rubbed the head of his prick against her slick lips. “And I want to feel” he pressed in achingly slowly “every inch of you.” With that he sank in fast, no gentle working, no ceremony, just sudden sensation. His hips sealed to her arse. She gasped at the fullness, giving Jim the opportunity to force his cock between her lips. The sudden intrusion made her moan, it sent vibrations through the base of Jim’s spine.   
Sherlock and Jim locked eyes over the expanse of Molly’s back. With practiced efficiency they set their pace, Sherlock pressing in as Jim pulled back a bit giving Molly just enough time to breath between strokes. Needing to support herself with both hands left her no way to control Jim’s hips, her nose brushing into the curls of his pubic hair on every duck, spit slipped from the corners of her mouth, she was a mess, wrecked, but she had never felt so alive, so wanted, so needed.   
Her noises became uncontrollable. So full and overwhelmed, she was deep in their thrall. Still questioning her sanity, she reveled in the way Sherlock made her stretch, the way Jim tasted on her tongue. It was too much all at once, she could feel herself giving over to and finding she somehow wanted more. She accepted her place between the two men, thanking her lucky stars that for whatever reason, she had been chosen.  
The precipice was approaching once again, the animalistic sounds escaping the men using her were making it hard to concentrate on anything but the heat building up in her stomach. Her musculature contracted, tensing as if on the brink of falling. Realising that she was close Sherlock and Jim began a litany of filthy praise, her name falling from their lips as a prayer, as if she were their God, stings of ohfuckyes and thatsitlikethat, and comeforme, comeformenow were enough to bring her to the free-fall she had been desiring. Her shuddering and quivering were enough to bring her partners along with her.   
The constricting tightness of her cunt held Sherlock in an almost vice-like grasp, practically tearing his orgasm out of him with guttural moans. His breathing stopped and did not begin again for what seemed like an eternity. Jim was not far behind, the satisfaction of Molly moaning and whimpering around his cock urged him to finish forcefully; pressing into her throat far past her comfort, blocking her airway and distorting her face.   
As he spent he commanded “Drink up” breathily. Molly did so eagerly, tasting the metallic heat before it all slide down her throat.   
Their grip on Molly loosened as they both began to retract themselves slowly from her body. She whimpered at the loss of sensation and would have fallen over if not for an uncharacteristically kind act on Jim’s part. He caught her and slowly laid her on her side, planting a sweet and affectionate kiss on her forehead, curling down beside her.   
“There’s a girl. Just relax Molls.”  
Sherlock was already mostly dressing, shrugging his blazer onto his shoulders as Molly opened her eyes. Jim was warmly spooning against her, running his hand absentmindedly up and down her arm, nuzzling into her neck. Sherlock put on his Belstaff, flipping the collar up in his regular fashion, he leant over and kissed Jim softly, then took Molly’s lips in one last passionate act.   
“Good night.” He left without waiting for a reply, the door closing loudly to the flat, lock turned quickly and he was gone into the night.   
“He’s like that. Trust. It’s not in his nature to get too close. And people think I’m distant.” Jim assured her  
“Oh.”  
“Sleep. Let me hold you. This will be the only time.”  
“What? Why?”  
“I’ll be gone in the morning. I’ve got too many things going on in the big bad world, can’t spend any more time playing Jim in IT.”  
“Playing?” she questioned as she pressed into the hollow chest between his shoulders  
“It’s all a game Molls. But don’t worry. I always win. Just let’s pretend. Give me this and you’ll not regret it.”  
They lay in silence, he waits until her breathing levels into a soft snuffle before letting his guard down completely. Before he allows himself to drift off to sleep he thinks ‘it’ll be a pity is Sebby has to pick her off.’


End file.
